


Arbitrage

by executrix



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Post-Serenity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/executrix/pseuds/executrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Serenity-the-movie, realignment: new crew members, new alliances, and a new emphasis on trading instead of smuggling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arbitrage

Rosalind: _For I must tell you friendly in your ear. Sell while you can, you are not for all markets._ (As You Like It, III, v, 59-60)

 _If you become a teacher, by your pupils you'll be taught._ (Oscar Hammerstein, "Getting to Know You")

1  
Two weeks after a tentatively healed Serenity was out of drydock, Mal put his foot down. "I esteem an ungrateful man lower than a snake, River, so never say I ain't grateful to you for what you done. Not just with your axe and such, but helpin' us fly. But the fact of the matter is, what we need is a professional pilot. Only reason we was alive at all, not just when we lost Wash, but lots of times before that, was that we had a pilot just as fine as our mechanic. And they may not be chasin' us so much as before, but then again maybe they're just out sunnin' themselves by the mousehole."

"Mouseholes are indoors," River said. "I think you mean snakes."

"Yeah…well…I was expressin' myself poetically."

"And they say **I'm** crazy."

"My point bein' that I give you my word that you can train along with our new pilot, whoever that might be, but we gotta get one, so do me the favor of not pitchin' a fit."

2  
Simon put his arms around Kaylee and hastily removed his nose from where it was buried in her none-too-fragrant hair. He bent his head to kiss her neck. "So, do you want to make love?" {{God knows we never have anything to talk about that we couldn't talk about at the dinner table.}}

She unbuckled his hands from her waist and turned around to face him. "Simon," she said. "Thing of it is, I think I made a mistake, goin' after you like that. 'Cause I can hear the gears grindin' when you're tryin' to be real sweet to me. The long and short of it is, we don't fit together. Where we've been is too different. It's all good that we could be together during the real bad times, but, well, times ain't near as bad now 'less you're Zoe, which we ain't." Kaylee held her breath, because there was something in the dry, often-recycled air of Serenity that seemed to bring forth a yearning for reassurance.

"I think you're right," Simon told her. "About not fitting. But you were a very good friend to me when I needed it. Thank you." He reached forward to kiss her forehead, and left the engine room.

{{Well, damn}} Kaylee thought. {{There's worse things in the 'Verse than battery-powered gadgets, though. At least you can rely on **them**.}}

3  
Fortunately before Mal's liver entirely turned to leather buying drinks for pilots, he found one who was willing to sign on with a crew of ambiguous legal status, potentially lethal heroism, and frequent payments in Employee Stock Ownership units rather than cash . Calvin Mooremack was a shortish, wiry guy with a cascade of wavy dark hair and sallow skin. His eyes were dark enough to blur the distinction between iris and pupil, in a hamsterish way that made Kaylee warm to him immediately.

"Well, I guess you'll want to see the bridge," Mal said, once they'd all broken protein together and Calvin's duffle bag was stowed.

"I'll take him, sir," Zoe said, worrying at it like a fascinating nail in her shoe sole.

"You sure?" Mal asked. Zoe nodded.

"Pretty standard for a Firefly, I suppose," Zoe said.

The pilot's eyes lit up when he saw the non-standard features. "Reminds me of a fellow I used to know in flight school," he said. "Wackiest sonuvabitch you ever…"

"Hoban Washburn," Zoe said flatly.

"Hey, you knew Crazy Ivan?" Calvin asked, misjudging the tone of her voice.

"Yeah," Zoe said. "I'm his widow."

Calvin's face changed, and he touched a gentle hand to her shoulder. "What happened?"

"Reaver spear killed him. We was between a rock and a hard place, gettin' out the word about Miranda."

"Miranda? Yeah, I think I heard something about it. Maybe—well, last year, a year or two?"

"Don't that just give you that good warm feelin' about how just a little band of folks can make a difference," Zoe said.

4  
Simon, his heart in his mouth, consulted his wristwatch at irregular intervals averaging three and a half minutes until River got back from town. He knew he couldn't keep her locked up on the ship forever, and he couldn't spend the rest of their lives with her tethered to his wrist, so….but….

"Gotcha!" he heard Kaylee say, and the hatch groaned open. River wasn't alone.

"She followed me home," River said, untruthfully. "Can I keep her?"

"You got a name, girl?" Jayne asked.

"Imabelle," she said. And that was all she said, and nobody pressed her for a surname even on the offchance she had one.

When Imabelle handed Mal his wallet, Jayne guffawed. When she handed Jayne one of his smaller knives, he scowled at first, then broke into applause.

Simon crouched down next to her. "Imabelle," he said, "My name is Simon Tam. Your…friend is my sister River. The beautiful lady is Miss Serra. And that's Captain Reynolds, and Kaylee, and Zoe. We live here."

"Hello?" Jayne said, waving his arm.

"Do you want to come and live with us here? We have, uh, usually we have enough to eat and, the way that you're breathing? I think you have a disease called Tsui-Eng Syndrome, and I have some pills that can cure that. And if you stay here then you won't get hurt, well, none of us will hurt you, and we can find work for you, so you don't have to, you know. On the street."

"I think you're forgettin' just whose boat this is," Mal said. "Maybe there's a backwards-echo in here, but I ain't heard myself offerin' her a berth."

"Mal," Inara said, "This girl is a street girl. To survive, she's had to…fight, and steal, and…sell herself under the roughest conditions."

"What, you're tellin' me you don't want the low-priced competition around to spoil your trade?"

"No," Inara said, tucking the tight fury in her voice like someone shaping a recalcitrant loaf of bread. Imabelle wasn't a pretty child with charming (unknowing or otherwise) ways. She was dirty and raw-boned, missing a few teeth; the ones she did have were crooked and stained. She walked hunched and furtive. Even cleaned up, she wouldn't be much to look at. Inara knew that the patrons of so unpromising a siren would be likely to take out their fury at themselves by hurting the girl. "I mean that no child should ever have to live that way. So if you won't let her stay on Serenity, she can live in my shuttle. And if you demand a rent increase to account for the molecules of oxygen she breathes, so be it."

5  
"Honestly, that girl scarcely knows enough Mandarin…well, enough that she can use in decent society…to order a pot of tea," Inara said. "I don't know how she'll ever get a job, unless…"

"We can teach her, can't we? I thought that was why River brought her here," Simon said. "So finally she'd outrank someone, and she could be the one providing the benefit. But I guess I was wrong, River hasn't seemed to show much interest in her now that she's here."

"Oh, I think we can kill two birds with one stone," Inara said. "Do you know how potatoes became popular, in Europe-that-Was?"

For a moment, Simon was distracted by the vision of a crisp hot potato, the green of chives and the black of pepper setting off the rich yellow of butter, but then he shook his head.

"At first they couldn't give them away!—everyone thought they were poisonous. So they planted a patch just outside the palace, and posted guards, but were careful to have the guards slip up on the job just enough to allow repeated thefts. And soon the stolen potatoes were found everywhere…."

"That's…very clever. You're very smart. As well as very lovely."

And so, the next time River came looking for Simon, she found him in the shuttle, and he said that he wasn't getting very far teaching Imabelle elementary algebra, he was sure that River would come up with much better explanations, and Inara said that while her calligraphy was good enough for government work it wasn't anywhere near as exquisite as River's. And by the time River heard them smirking at each other, she figured what the hell, she didn't have anything to do most of the time anyway.

6  
Kaylee came back from the market in Ville-Normande, shivering, her modesty (barely) safeguarded by the shawl awkwardly knotted around her upper body, and ran until she found River and Imabelle playing mah-jongg (and conjugating irregular verbs) on the catwalk. "Imabelle!" she yelled. "Go get changed! Gimme that shirt! River, get me your one like that too—with the little round mirrors on it."

"It's my shirt," Imabelle said. "Ain't givin' it to you. Cap'n said it was mine and I could keep it, didn't even have to give'm so much as a hand job for it."

"Oh, sweetie," Kaylee said, "It **is** your shirt. It's just that…" and she opened her hand. Two twenty-platinum coins sparkled in her palm. "I was in the market—didn't even have time to buy what I went for, 'fore some gal bought the shirt right off my back, we went into the alley and I wrapped up in my shawl instead. Well, 'Nara's shawl really. That gal there give me **forty platinum** and she said she'd do the same for yours too."

"Forty platinum?" River said. "I was with you when you bought those blouses in Dakeeba City. They were eight credits each."

"Why'd you think I run back here like that? Folks here is crazy, got more money'n they know what to do with, so they go wild for flim-flams from other planets."

7  
"So, this was during the charity guinea pig races…more coffee?" Calvin asked.

Zoe, enthralled, just nodded.

"Because, you know, cystic fibrosis, that's what JosieBeth died of, and Dean VanVickers was going to shut it down—he said he wasn't going to allow gambling. And then Wash told him to look on his sourcebox, there was a file showing that the Dean had a 12,000 platinum bet on the trifecta…but of course you know all this."

"No," Zoe said. "Any time I asked, specially about sad things, he'd just say that what was interesting was the stuff that was goin' to happen, it was bound to be better, and not to look back 'cause the past was over anyway. And considerin' how much of my past's got more rottin' corpses than candied cherries in a cheap fruitcake, I didn't disagree."

8  
"So, we got a hundred platinum," Kaylee told the assembled diners. "One-twenty, less twenty to buy some more blouses for us."

"I think I got rooked," Imabelle said. "The other shirt you took away from me was pretty. This one looks like vomit."

"Did you get…you know?" Calvin asked, his eyes dancing with anticipation.

"Sure did! Hadda go to, like, eight places 'fore I found them, but…look in the number six locker by the portside position."

"Mind tellin' me?" Mal asked.

"Gold-plated channel clamps for the backup navsig rocker subassembly," Calvin said. "KayleeKayleeKaylee, you're a champ!"

"Costin' me how much?" Mal asked.

"In the end, I beat 'im down to seventy-five," Kaylee said, disarming criticism by cracking open a pint bottle of rye, pouring some into Mal's and Jayne's coffee mugs, and taking a demure sip before screwing the top back on.

"You deprived my female crewmembers of their tops…for why?"

"An' I didn't even get to see!" Jayne said. "I demand a recount!"

"If we swap out those channel clamps, we can go an extra ten thousand spatials between scheduled maintenances," Calvin said. "And you know what a bitch the Skedu is on that sub."

"It really is, Cap'n," Kaylee said appealingly. "And, y'know what I thought? Sure, that lady says that she could sell those blouses in her store, and if we brought her more she could sell 'em too, and at first I thought that was just her, she has Ways. But the more I thought about it, I realized that it takes folks two ways. Sometimes they see somethin' different, they just gotta kill it. But sometimes, don't matter what kinda go-se it is where it comes from, if it's new they think it's all special and they gotta have it. And, we go all kinds of places…"

"'We never stop moving,'" Simon said. "That was one of the first things Mal said to me."

"Not countin' sending you ass-over-teakettle twice," Jayne said.

Simon gave him a cold tight smile. "One of our first **verbal** communications. You're right, Kaylee—that's called arbitrage. Buying something in one market, and taking advantage of differences in markets to sell it someplace else where it's more valuable."

"Mal, where are we headed next?" Kaylee asked.

"Don't rightly have an answer yet, but I'm workin' on it," Mal told her.

"Why don't we go back to Dakeeba City? She told me she'd buy a hundred shirts, if I could get 'em to her. Wouldn't give me more'n twenty each for a big order, but…that's eight hundred out, less if I can beat down the market women, two thousand in. When we're dirtside in Dakeeba, Calvin and River and Imabelle can upgrade the channel clamps, fuel up real good in Ville-Normande—fuel's cheap there, and then take up the next job you got planned."

9  
Kaylee left River and Imabelle sorting out the semi-precious stones they bought in the Ville-Normande market—they were real pretty, streaked in yellow and purple, so Kaylee figured they must be good for something, maybe made into necklaces with a hole drilled to accept a leather thong… She took a minute to unfold all the notes and rearrange them all facing the same way (she kept it in small bills for maximum drama) and hunted down Mal.

When she found him, she put the non-note-bearing hand on his chest, pushed, and stuck the pile of money into the top of his pants. Then she put one hand on each side of his shoulders and kissed him.

"And what's all **that** about?" he said, when she released him.

"Mal," Kaylee said, "Way I figure it, we already got us a passel of fine girls, 'cept that one of 'em's metal and carbon and wire and electronics, and two of 'em's flesh an' blood. And even though we have some unsaintly habits around fightin' and whorin' an' stealin', Serenity and River and Imabelle are lucky to have folks like us. So if we're gonna be their Mama and their Daddy, might as well get the benefits that go 'longside."

"It seems like the womenfolk are makin' all the decisions around here lately," Mal said.

"River told me what you said to that bitch Saffron," Kaylee said. "'Bout how a person's choices shouldn't be just down to what's 'tween their legs. What you said made good sense. In fact it maybe made me start to think of you this way. I shoulda known better than to start in on Simon—I mean, that time he near to kissed me, and then Inara come walkin' by. He looked like a man got hit on the head with a big rock. A real big rock. An' I wanted to make him look at me that way, 'cept I never could. And then it was after…it was after. And it was good for me to be with him, 'cause he's got a good heart."

"What, and I don't?"

"Course you don't, you mean old man. You believe in Justice, and that can be awful cruel sometimes. On the other hand, if you take it in your mind to kiss a girl, and she wants to kiss you back, it'd take a lot more'n a Shepherd strollin' past, God rest his soul, to stop you."

After Mal picked up his cue, and they kissed for a good long time—long enough for Mal to question the wisdom of standing up all day doing that—he said, "Kaylee, this is a fine idea indeed, but before we go any further, I need to know what your permanent intentions are in this matter. Because I do not intend to stand by and be trifled with 'case you decide you mean to chop and change again."

"Y'know, Mal, where I come from, when a fella starts talkin' to a girl on the subject of permanent intentions, he better have a little square box to back it up." Kaylee was teasing, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she thought, Why not? Wait long enough for him to think it was his idea, and long enough for Zoe's wounds to scar over (she thought that the new fella might be able to take a part in that healing). And, while having the only bunk with a private toilet in it was a fine captainly perk, having the only baby aboard would be an even finer one.

So she unbuttoned his shirt some more, rested her head on his chest, and reached down past the wad of bills…

"I think we have reached the point of 'Not Here,'" Mal said.

"Why not the engine room, Mal? Engines still get me hot."

10  
Mal could almost feel a subtle leaning, as if his ship were a rowboat that tilted when too many passengers piled to one side. He knew where Zoe and Simon were—in the galley, disinfecting the inside of the cabinets, and where Jayne was—sitting on the couch in the lounge area, flipping through a custom knife catalog and smoking a fine panatela that once resided in a pocket Imabelle picked.

Mal soon found his sweetheart and his pilot on the bridge, at the main position, with River in the copilot's seat teaching Imabelle how to read schematics. "What've you two got your heads together over again?"

"Somethin' Mack found on the Cortex," Kaylee said. "Fella has some ideas for a rebuild on the Nineteen step-down. Looks to me like one o'them fancy-dan ideas they come up with in a laboratory, not somethin' that you think up out in the Black when you got three minutes 'fore the life support conks."

"Maybe we can…River? Could you design us a simulation, see if Kaylee's right about this?"

"You two sure are thick as thieves," Mal said.

"Well, a pilot that doesn't run in double harness with the mechanic ain't worth his salt," Calvin said.

"Good thing Zoe didn't hear ya," Imabelle said from over at the second position. "'Cause she'd give ya a shiner for that."

11  
"I'm….well, God. Now that they're. We're free. Please, Inara," Simon said, and held out his arms, looking down dubiously as if he was worried about their continued attachment.

Inara said "Oh, yes," but by that time she was close enough to say it inside his mouth.

"This is…hopeless," Simon said. "I'm…I need you. I think I always have. I promise I'll…whatever you need. I'll try, anyway. And probably fail. But please. Tell me what pleases you. Or, if it's too hard to say it, just **show** me."

Inara unclasped the brooch at her shoulder, and the heavy, bright fabric fell until it was caught by the belt around her waist. Simon half-knelt to unbuckle the belt. Then he carried her to the bed (it wasn't very far). She pulled the pins out of her hair.

He stepped back, and smiled a little and began to unbutton his shirt. When he was naked too, he lay down next to her and they turned, side by side, in a dark green silk cocoon.

After holding her for a long time, Simon finally felt that every cell of his body was alive and awake again at last. He tightened his arms around her; she sighed a little and he saw that she had fallen asleep. So he settled her head more firmly in the hollow of his shoulder and let himself fall too.

12  
Mal couldn't think of any reason why he and Kaylee shouldn't sleep in, and they devoted themselves to the project after an evening of healthful exercise.

It was not meant to be, however, because Mal woke up to some thumps and slithers. He put on a pair of pants and his house slippers and looked down at the cargo bay from the catwalk.

Zoe was leading River, Imabelle, and Simon on a training parcours. They sprinted up the stairs (River in the lead), down, and up again. Zoe made them drop and give her 20 pushups, then sent them running off again. Imabelle and Simon ran around, River leaped over Jayne where he was supine on the weight bench, lifting. "Hey!" he said.

Then the proximity alert went. Mal snatched up the comm. "Calvin?" he bellowed. "We got a situation?"

"No situation," Calvin said. "It's the cruiser Warren G. Harding."

"Well, why ain't we runnin'?"

"Captain, they haven't even hailed us. And if they were to board us, they would find…a lot of people who don't have any outstanding warrants, and a hold filled with goods that are perfectly legal to possess on any world and that we can prove we paid for."

"This is all slidin' away from me," Mal addressed the cargo bay roof, then dropped his eyes before he could suspect himself of praying. "What with a rug rat and my crew goin' behind my back doin' just what they want, which they always did anyway, but so much so now that I suspicion I went from runnin' cattle to runnin' cat with nothin' but a war in between."

Figuring he was awake anyway, and feeling slightly peaked, he went to the kitchen. There wasn't much condensed milk left (no matter how often they were told not to, Imabelle and Jayne ate it out of the can by the spoonful) but enough to dilute the mug of coffee he fixed for Kaylee. He reheated the tall pot of congee on the stove, sprinkled his bowl with some pickled radishes and fish sauce and Kaylee's with cinnamon-sugar, and put everything on a tray.

13  
"Do you want us to leave?" Simon said. "Because…River's a lot better now. We could leave. I think I could keep her alive."

"Awww, Simon, don't go bein' melodramatical," Mal said. "I've got used to havin' the Albatross around, and I think it's fair to say that this is her home now. But you can't expect it to sit well with me, you carryin' on with Inara."

Simon shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Captain, there is some sense in which it is meaningful to say that Kaylee was my girlfriend" (he held up his other hand to forestall Mal's next comment) "Was, in that she has now dumped me. And taken up with you. I'm sure I'm safe in saying that I know how lucky that makes you." (Mal tried to find a way to take exception to that statement, but couldn't.) "And considering that you can make her happy and I couldn't, I think that means that you win. And, well, this is **killing** me to ask, so you win there too. We've been comrades for a while. I don't know if we've ever been friends. So, not for me. Please. For River."

"Yeah, well," Mal said, "What the hell, the two of you pull your weight. And I'll be good to Kaylee and that's a promise, 'cause there ain't a damn thing you could do to me if I wasn't."

Simon stood up. "Fine," he said. "I'll leave you the last word."

"You **see**?" Mal said. "That's why folk keep aimin' to roast you."

14  
There were four patients waiting outside the door when office hours started. Jayne patted them down for weapons and collected Simon's fee in advance, payable in cash, produce, gold nuggets, or chickens.

By the end of the day, Simon had seen eight patients, to the tune of forty credits, a couple of chickens in a crate, lots of cabbages, and two gallon jugs of homemade wine. He was about to close the Medbay and ask River to haul up the cargo bay door when a young girl limped over. The whole sad story could be read in her bare feet and swollen belly, although Simon thought there was something familiar about the green paisley shawl that covered her drooping head.

Then Imabelle pushed Inara's shawl back from her head, grinned, and pulled the sack of flour from beneath her blouse—actually it was one of Jayne's t-shirts—and put it down on the table with a satisfying thump.

Jayne whistled, "Damn, girl! I'll take out some of that flour right now, mix up my Mama's sourdough, coupla days we can have flapjacks."

"Biscuits," Imabelle said. "I stole it, so I say we get biscuits." She reached into the kangaroo pocket sewn into her skirt and pulled out half-a-dozen wallets and emptied the bills onto the table.

One thing nobody had to teach her was how to count money. "A hundred and seventy-nine," she said.

"Well, that puts **me** in my place," Simon said, choosing one of the emptied wallets and caressing the smooth leather. He was a little surprised to realize that he had forty-three credits in his pocket to put in the wallet.

15  
"Hey, Zo'?" Jayne asked. "How do you feel about all this, y'know, market tradin'?"

"Suits me fine," Zoe said. "Any huindan we don't gotta shoot means one less widow and another passel of kids whose Daddy ain't comin' home. We got fuel in the tanks, food in our bellies, clothes on our backs, and none of us got shot lately neither. That might mean that the Doc was excess baggage, but he's willin' to work for coin we all share and I got no quarrel with that."

Mal and Kaylee walked by, Kaylee's hand tucked (not without effort) into Mal's back pocket, so Jayne tried another tack. "Ain't that cozy?" he said. "Cap'n and Kaylee all paired up, and them two fancy Core folks. Makes a fella see what he's missin'. Always thought you was a fine figure of a woman, Zoe, and a respectable fighter too. So what else would a fella want in a girl, 'ceptin' maybe some ability to get next to a stove without causin' it to blow up?"

Zoe raked him with a look. "Jayne, 'cept that you're enough of an unclean beast for all of us, this ain't Noah's Ruttin' Ark. Oh, and if you go near either of those girls, havin' your ripped-off balls stuffed in your mouth'll be the least of your problems."

"Imabelle's had more men than you've had hot suppers, and River's more'n'eighteen and her head's a lot better these days too."

"Not enough better, Jayne. Not enough better."

16  
"Well, I must say things are looking up financially," Mal said, addressing the assembled crew.

"Yeah," Jayne said. "We're headed to Grover next, ain't we? That's grassland, and they're comin' up to the cold months. We go out to a ranch at slaughter time, get a side of beef, hang it up to age, then butcher it and pack it for the chiller, plenty of good eatin' there."

"We had another thought," Inara said. "So Calvin and Kaylee drew up these blueprints for building an _ofuro_ in this corner here." (Inara hoped that introducing her to the pleasures of the bath would waken Imabelle's latent enthusiasm for washing.) Here's the estimate for the cost of the lumber and the piping and hardware. If we fire it up once a week, Kaylee says we'll be using almost entirely waste heat."

"Waste heat, huh?" Jayne said. "Kaylee, could we maybe crank it up a notch, make us some beef jerky for what won't fit in the chiller?"

"Sure," she said. "It'd be shiny to have a real bath, though. Just like in the Core."

"The kind where we all sit around nekkid? Somethin' in that," Jayne said. "Army marches on its stomach, though. So think on the side of beef idea."

"If we can budget enough fuel to heat water twice a week," Inara said, "We can have a women's session and a men's session. Or, if fuel economy must take precedence, we can wear bathing costumes."

"Damn, Inara, you sure know how to take away a man's fun 'cept when he's payin' for it," Jayne said.

"What's that little box there on the side?" Mal asked.

"It's a sake heater," Inara said. "It's a graceful little amenity that all the Guildhouses build in to the ofuro."

Mal's vision reddened for a moment until he could scrub out the image of Inara and Simon sipping warmed sake in a shared tub, with her laughing like she didn't have a care in the world. Then he returned to reality and looked around at the circle of his reconstituted crew. He could tell that Calvin and Imabelle were leaning toward the idea of laying down supplies. Mal began to count before he realized that he was on the verge of **taking a vote**. Appalled, he turned his back, said, "Ain't anybody besides me got work to do? Side of beef it is," and stormed through the door.

17  
Simon tried to remember how long it had been since the last time he'd worn a suit and tie.

"Not the Space Pirate?" Sheydra asked, scrolling through the file.

"I…what? Oh, I suppose I am," Simon said. "Just not…the one you mean. And far less dashing."

"I see you didn't perform her medical examination."

"No, of course not, it would hardly be ethical." Sheydra fried him with a glance, and he realized that Sheydra had not felt any similar scruples about hearing Inara's case.  
{{Oh, Iron Mercy}}, Simon thought. {{There's my foot back in its native home. I hope that if—when—I'm supplanted I'll be able to be generous, if I ever meet my successor.}}

"I'm from Osiris, you see," Simon said. "And I was raised to believe—the values of my home city—are such that being chosen as the fancy-piece of a Companion is an incredible honor, one that anyone would be delighted to achieve. For however long it lasted, or didn't."

"According to this application, Miss Serra wishes to renew her license and keep working. And that is acceptable to you?"

"She'll be the one doing the work," Simon said. "It's hardly a question of what's acceptable to **me**."

"You know very well what I mean," Sheydra said.

"Mam'zelle," Simon said, "My own work is as a surgeon. It is an incredibly intimate bond to…to reach into someone's body and, very possibly, save their life. Errr. His or her life. I am glad that once again I can perform the work that I was trained for. It makes a great deal of difference to me to have that ability. I can hardly consider myself unique in that respect. But that doesn't mean that I insist on having only one patient, or returning over and over again for further operations once the patient's condition has stabilized."

"You're skating around again, Dr. Tam."

Simon took a deep breath. "All right," he said. "Last year, during…one of quite a few moments when I was so terrified I didn't know how I could go on, Inara helped me. And the faith that she gave me when she took my hand is what I want to repay, if I can in any way please her."

When he got back to his room, Inara wasn't there, but one of the most beautiful young men Simon had ever seen, was, kneeling next to the table by the fireplace, arranging elegant pieces of sushi on a lacquered platter.

"I'm Eduardo Hsiang," he said. "In town for my Level Two Companion exam. Sheydra sent me here to welcome you. Purely as a guest of House Madrassa, you understand."

Simon rationed himself to running two fingertips down that lovely face and touching them to the soft lips with their finely-cut edge.

"Thank you," he said. "But…well, not now. Perhaps in later years when we return on this errand…no, by then I'm sure you'll be the toast of some elegant city."

{{I've known her for thirteen seconds, and Sheydra hates me already}} Simon thought. {{Mal's right—I do have the gift of instant alienation.}} Simon realized, guiltily, that he had picked up one of the jewel-like pieces of sushi with his hand and thrown it into his mouth, ignoring the finely enamelled chopsticks.

18  
"Imabelle, you chase down one o'them chickens, wring its neck, pluck it. 'Nara, you're on Supper for tonight, and River, you're on cleanup."

"I'll go look up a roasting temperature chart," Inara said.

"You'll do nothin' of the kind, 'Nara. We got to be economical, make that chicken go a long way. Stew it up with some rice and…I think we still got some parsnips left." {{Roasting temperature chart}} Mal thought. {{Yeah, gotta get one of them next Tuesday, when I roast the other chicken for Kaylee's birthday.}}

"Sure we got parsnips," Jayne said. "Reason we got parsnips is that no one wants to eat 'em. Big ol' woody things ain't no good to nobody but an old maid…"

19  
Inara dipped her head toward the fragrant steam drifting from her teacup. "You know, dear, I'd almost forgotten what it tastes like when it's infused only five times instead of a hundred!" She wiggled her toes, glad to be out of the stiletto heels so popular on Beaumonde that season.

"Who was there?" Simon asked avidly, lifting one of her feet into his lap for an acupressure massage.

"Well, Cameron Precaszo," she said. "His latest novel wasn't very good, was it?" (Simon shook his head and tipped one thumb down) "But Anne-joan Truong was hanging all over him like a pendant."

"C'mon, you can tell me," he said. "She's just a beard, isn't she? And speaking of pendants, did anyone say anything about your necklace?"

"No, but I noticed that there were three pieces of that red-figure pottery from two trips back on the mantelpiece," she said.

20  
"Okay, listen up folks," Mal said, squinting up from the clipboard which somehow seemed to have grown into his hand. "We'll be dirtside for three days so Inara can go off an' work—I'll never know how you can be okay with that, Doc…"

"That subject is closed, Captain," Simon said.

"…and so Kaylee can do her market trades. Zoe, you'll be doin' security for her. Jayne, help her load in today, load out on Thursday, 'case she buys any more of that heavy crap to sell on elsewhere. Simon, you drive the mule, drop me off at Gonzalez' place. You'll love this. Your old friends in the Revolutionary Communist Party want some leaflets took to Aberdeen. So I volunteered you to pick 'em up. Gimme two hours there then swing by and get me at Gonzalez' and bring some of them anti-hangover pills. Tomorrow and Wednesday, Doc'll be at whatever pesthole they see fit to call a hospital, so Jayne, you'll be shotgun. Maybe somebody didn't the memo about us bein' heroes and all. Any time in between, you're on your own. Calvin, you been workin' real hard, so you get a furlough, 'cept for checkin' up on River's work. Albatross, you got the helm. You'll have lots of spare time, so lay out courses for the Lilac-Boros-Aberdeen run. Three of 'em: shortest one, one that takes the least fuel, and one that'd keep us below the radar. Imabelle, you're on Laundry today and Supper tomorrow, rest of the time, you get under the belly of the ship and fix them pop rivets like Kaylee showed you." River gave him a significant look. "Oh, yeah. River says don't forget, you got a spelling test tonight and political astrography tomorrow."

Jayne thought that maybe he'd stop off after the whorehouse, pick up a boy. Because he had to hand it to Imabelle, she was a fine thief, but not much use in a scrap, and she took no interest at all in guns. The ship was turning into a damn hen frigate. With another gunhand aboard they could do some worthwhile crime and stop hauling around a load of pussified crockery. {{Carlos}}, Jayne thought. {{I'll call him Carlos. That's a fine name for a boy. A fine name for an…apprentice.}} Yeah, if they could all be teachin' at Imabelle, he could give the right boy {{and there'd be plenty to choose from--orphans and such, and poor folk got more kids'n they know what to do with…always plenty of kids on the street.}}) the benefit of his experience, which was so considerable that he was older than a merc had any statistical right to be.

21  
The comm in Zoe's room crackled. She was mending a shirt, wondering why she bothered. These days, even after she brought back a fresh load of laundry, there were still clean tops still hanging in the closet. Oh, she would keep mending the drawstring blouse with the little flowers as long as there was a thread she could still identify as Wash's favorite, but the one in her lap was…just a shirt. "Zoe!" Calvin said. "Come on down to the cargo bay!" He didn't sound scared, and it was Calvin, and not Mal pounding out an order, so she finished her task and put away the mending basket before she strolled down.

River was playing Calvin's bandoneon (it seemed she just had to pick up a musical instrument to be able to play it right away). Jayne, with a correct deportment that wouldn't have gone amiss at a diplomatic reception, was dancing with Imabelle and thinking about getting his guitar and sitting in. Mal stood in the center of the floor, twirling Kaylee beneath his outstretched arm. Inara, grinning, managed evasive maneuvers that kept her feet out from under Simon's. "May I have this dance, Zoe?" Calvin asked, his arms held open.

Zoe couldn't remember the last time she'd danced: her darling Wash hadn't danced one bit better than Simon. "Sure," she said. She couldn't help noticing that Calvin's new second-hand boots were not only pointy and tooled on the sides, but rather high in the heel. "I love to dance."


End file.
